


luna

by Anonymous



Category: NCT
Genre: Cat Ears, Comedy, Heavy Petting, M/M, Mild Smut, Romantic Comedy, a bday gift for cal!!!, dom!sicheng, hehehehehhehrhrhrhd, i can’t write fluff I’m sorry, yuwin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 12:11:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16218779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: YUTA REALLY WANTS A CAT, LIKE, REALLY WANTS A CAT, SO SICHENG BUYS A CAT-EAR HEADBAND, AND HOPES FOR THE BEST.90’s AU





	luna

**Author's Note:**

  * For [byunkies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/byunkies/gifts).



> fluff = comedy haha im failure  
> DDY DY AYeEE
> 
> smexy nun huhuhuhuhuhuhuhu
> 
> uhmm???
> 
> sicheng is both smart and dumb uwu
> 
> are there party city’s in korea bzbbzbzbzbgh
> 
> no smut bc,,,I couldnt
> 
> me: sicheng  
> brain: chunggie  
> me: chenggie  
> brain: …o

___________________________________

sicheng has a bit of a dilemma.  


now, it may seem a little mundane, a little more tolerable than life-threatening—but sicheng is pretty sure it’s a _serious_ dilemma.  


his boyfriend of two years, yuta, who he just moved in with only three and a half months ago; keeps asking for a cat.  


that’s not so bad, right?  


_wrong._  


he’s been asking every single day, since he moved in, three and half months ago.  


and when sicheng says every single day—he means _every single day._  


it always happens around noon, when the pregnant orange tabby living in yuta’s miniature greenhouse visits their doorstep—because yuta has a habit of feeding her—and it doesn’t stop until sicheng switches the tv on to the channel that plays sailor moon in japanese, and they cuddle until they both doze off.  


it’s always around dinner time when yuta wakes up and asks if his lovely boyfriend hates cats, and it’s always when sicheng is sharing their plates when he replies; “no.” usually, he’s thinking—why not a bunny? or a goldfish? but he never suggests it.  


quite frankly, sicheng loves cats—they’re cute and quiet and tend to catch rodents, which is a huge benefit—but he’s not sure _yuta_ will love them as much if he gets one.  


see, cats are all beautiful and elegant, glorified pets; but they can also be pretty shitty.  


cats bite, scratch up furniture just as much as they scratch their owners, cough up the fur they tend to get dirty, cough up insects and rodents they tend to catch, cough up nothing because they tend to gag—and don’t get sicheng started on the constant meows when they’re hungry!  


it’s _really_ not a case of, “no! because I hate cats!” it’s more like a, “no! because you might not really like it when you get it because I know you’re picky and get tired of things quickly!”  


so whenever yuta asks, _of course_ he changes the topic in hopes of killing off his newfound love for cats.  


hell, sicheng would recite an entire book of japanese poetry if that’s what it took to shut yuta up about his want for a cat.  


“hey?”  


like, if sicheng had to dress up as that cowboy bebop girl, or what’s-her-face from one piece; he _would._  


“sicheng?”  


he would do _anything_ just to save a poor cat from yuta’s excessiveness, and to save yuta from being scratched from his excessiveness.  


_“HEY?”_ the blond jumps, gripping the pillow in his hands tightly just in case he gas to use it as a weapon—and when he turns to the source of sound he sees yuta, who he assumes had been prancing around the house in these huge, tacky green military pants and no shirt all day; if the huge headphones around his bare neck meant anything; it of course meant he’d been dancing around the house.  


“what happened?” he asks, dropping the pillow to lean back into the couch while he grabbed his manhua from the coffee table; remembering that he’d been rereading it for maybe the seventh time before he’d lost himself in thought.  


yuta makes a face, “you started spacing out when I told you renji gave birth in the garden—” sicheng yawns, disinterested, and yuta immediately silences; “who’s renji?” the blond mumbles out, patting his mouth as the yawn subsided.  


the auburn haired man freezes—blank and dumbstruck—and blankly stares at his lover; gaze going from shock, to disappointment, to shock once more.  


he wails.  


“eh—what do you mean!?” yuta screeches, flailing so hard his baggy pants lower and show off the hem of his boxers, sicheng grins—“the cat! the cat, chenggie!” he wails, crouching down to his lover’s side to dramatically shake him.  


the blond man lets himself be shaken before stretching out, flashing yuta off to scratch his back—and his dear boyfriend only moves on to grab at the huge looney tunes hoodie he had on, hand dragging over bugs bunny’s face before he collapsed completely on the floor.  


“the…cat you always feed?” he asks, and yuta seemingly comes back to life, grinning up at sicheng happily. “yeah, orenji! you know, the pregnant cat? she gave birth and I swear to god, she showed me her kittens and—baobei, why don’t we just take them in?”  


the chinese boy tenses.

“well,” he starts, setting his manhua right back down, “I believe that, you and I, as young as we are; are not responsible enough to take care of so many cats.”  


“you’re 22, I’m 24?”  


“still too many cats.”  


“so what about taking her and two kittens, then, uh, just give the rest to like...ten or something?”  


sicheng hums, “what about give all of them to ten? he’s lonely, right?”  


yuta scoffs, “he has like four girlfriends, I dunno what you mean.”  


“four girlfriends? what happened to taeyong, or is he one of the girlfriends?”  


“I don’t know, that’s _not_ the point!” he exclaims, “the point is, we’ve got a beautiful orange tabby—orange! why her _name_ is _orenji_ —who has a very _small_ litter of five, living right outside our house; up for grabs so they can experience a loving and happy in-the-house life.”  


sicheng makes a face, then makes steady eye contact with his boyfriend and—“I have no idea what half of that was.”  


_lies, sicheng’s korean has gotten just as good as yuta’s—they practiced every god damn day living there._  
yuta rolls his eyes and walks away, lifting his headphones back to his ears.  


as soon as sicheng hears the guest room door shut, he scrambles off the couch and races off to their shared room.

///

 _“kun-ge, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”_ he whispers into the telephone, the neon pink cord wrapped around his wrist and the clear plastic pressed to his face—if anyone ever asks who bought this loud yet subtle monster of a phone, sicheng would _not_ admit that it was him who pressured yuta into purchasing it in its largest size; because as much as he had wanted it back in college, trying to fit in because even _jaehyun_ had it (and he was really fucking popular, alright?) he absolutely hated it now.  


sometimes he wakes up at night to peer into its glow in the dark shell and have a stare off with the little orange bell in it.  


he hates it, very much.  


_“how the fuck am I supposed to know? he’s your boyfriend.”_  


suddenly he remembers he’s on a call, and his brows arch as the overall audacity of kun’s words hit him—  


_“yea but, you have like eleven fucking cats and, whoever the fuck you’re dating, you’ve been dating since high school, so? what should I do?”_  


_“you’ve asked me that like four hundred times you fucking head banger.”_ kun grumbles out, obviously annoyed—and sicheng finds it funny because, if he remembered correctly, he still had blackmail material from highschool.  


_“take a chill pill ge,”_ he says slyly, _“it’s not like I’m annoying you! not after I helped you that one time you got your head stuck in a—”_  


_“FINE!”_  


sicheng chortles, only stopping when yuta waltz into the room. he’s amazed that the portable cd player has lasted so long without dropping, because last time he actually paid attention to yuta dancing, he was crumping, and the headphones were duct taped back together—nevertheless, he waves and smiles, then goes back to cursing in his mother tongue.  


_“for fuck's sake, ge, I really don’t know what to do.” he laments, “I mean, you know how yuta is!? the beautiful gammy fuckhead, always deluding himself into thinking things are cool, but then he buys or does whatever it is that’s trendy, and then he ends up regretting it! like, the mullet! we all hated that look!”_  


kun scoffs, and sicheng grips the cord harder, _“oh as if! winwin, you were all over him with that stupid cut.”_  


sicheng feels his nape heat and frowns. _“you...don’t call me that. you know what, bye ge, I’ll call you never.”_  


_“wait, wait., wait!”_ he wails over the phone, and sicheng hears him shift with the cord— _“just…find the next best thing! maybe a cat figurine, or like…a stuffed toy? I don’t know sicheng, but don’t cut me off, okay? I don’t wanna be like taeil.”_  


the chinese boy sighs, and yuta prances in again—because, really, sicheng has been on the phone for at least two hours, yuta has danced into the room at least six times, and sicheng has given him that ‘friendly-neighbour-that-actually-doesn’t-want-to-talk-to-you’ smile and wave at least one hundred times, before he reasons with himself that _there’s no way he can solve this without getting a cat._  


_“I still talk to taeil you egghead,”_ he mutters, disgruntled, _“but okay ge, thanks. bye loser, I love you.”_  


_“oh, uh…love you too? did I help?”_  


_“no.”_  


sicheng sets the phone down in its base with a frustrated wail, and slumps over on the bed.  


what the fuck was he gonna do? yuta is a persistent man, he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted and eventually got tired of it—though, sicheng himself was an exception.  


he frowns, then flings himself up and off the bed before trudging out of the room.  


he watches yuta glide around, then focuses on his manhua.  


…his manhua?  


his boys love manhua?  


his favourite manhua?  


oh.  


_oh fuck yes._  


“baby!” he yells, racing back into the room to find a pair of pants, “I’m gonna go out for a little while!” he spots some denim shorts and snatches them up before yanking them on quickly, then grabs his phone and zooms past the japanese boy without a glance—he shoves his feet into his shoes and stuffs his phone into his pocket after flipping it open to check the time, and before he leaves, he runs back to kiss yuta on the cheek.  


yuta pulls his headphones off and—“love you too?”  


sicheng leaves with a “yea”, and that’s that.

///

so sicheng must confess, in his fav manhua, one of the characters wears some stuff to look like a cat—sicheng doesn’t know how to describe it, but he knows it’ll work. it’s popular in japan too! the cat ears and dog collars, of course—so it’ll work no matter what.  


I mean, if a baby is playing with a knife, just show it something else and it’ll start playing with that—right?  


so he should just show yuta, who’s obsessed with a loving cat, that he’s an even more loving boyfriend—who’ll go to any length to shut him the fuck up.  


it’s logic.  


sicheng calls a cab with ease, watching as one slows to pick him up before he slides into the backseat with a giddy smile—this is what he’s gonna do, and yuta’s gonna fucking love it.  


like, _totally_ love it.  


“where to, sir?”  


sicheng grimaces, thinking of just how to obtain cat stuff—is there even a place that sells things like that? back in china he found costumes at the manhua store so maybe an anime store? no wait, a costume shop! he makes a sound of approval—“uh…party city I guess?” he mumbles out, brow cocked a little. the driver glances back, and he gives a small smile.  


“alright, it’s not that far, so it won’t cost much.”  


sicheng shakes his leg in excitement as the cab begins to move.

///

when sicheng walks into the party city, he doesn’t know what to expect. it’s definitely nowhere near halloween or even october, in fact it’s may—but he does not expect fourth of july party hats and picnic decorations.  


he leaves, immediately.  


it takes a moment of self-encouragement before he goes back in and surveys all the aisles—there’s wigs and masquerade masks lining the walls, even clown outfits and face paint, yet no cat accessories—he momentarily wonders if he should get a costume for halloween, since last year, during an impromptu reunion, _one of them_ (aka he can’t remember who) won best costume in something he can’t even recall, and he’s pretty sure he deserved it instead. (to be honest…he doesn’t know what he wore either.)  


but in the end the costumes are all just too…horrible.  


this time, he leaves with a good reason.  


thankfully, there’s another costume shop just down the street, so sicheng spares his wallet the despair and instead walks. he passes a couple cafés, a business man going postal on his boss, an adult store…and then finally, the costume shop.  


is may weather supposed to be this hot? or maybe the heat is collecting in this god damn looney tunes hoodie—that shouldn’t really affect him though, his shorts are like three inches away from his ass cheek. maybe he’ll taxi back home..  


he shrugs to himself before walking to the door of the shop, then prances in without a care in the world—and is quickly delighted to see a couple dozen sailor moon sets and costumes for the x-files.  


he chokes and sprints away when he makes eye contact with a hollow rugrats mask, but when he realizes what it is, he freezes (avoids the cashier’s shocked gaze) pretends nothing happened; and starts roaming the aisles.  


from what he can tell, he starts on the trendy side—there’s fan merch instead of costumes, star trek key chains and star wars posters—and he moves quickly, knowing that spock wasn’t something good enough to distract yuta.  


when he steps into the next aisle, he backs out just as soon as he steps in—there’s only masks, and sicheng sure as hell isn’t dumb enough to go down that road again.  


he skips down two rows, and finds himself surrounded by “girl costumes”—and he’d be offended if he weren’t so distraught upon seeing that there were no cat themed costumes, only princess and _bunny_ costumes.  


sicheng feels like a muppet for god’s sake—he huffs and finds his way back to the entrance before leaving completely. who the fuck likes _bunnies_ more than cats? technically, him, but whatever; that’s not the point.  


he should’ve map quested this beforehand because—are there even any more party city’s in this fucking area? china was never this complicated.  


he kicks a trash can, frowning, then turns back to the direction he’d come from—this plan was pretty dumb to begin with, but now he feels like a complete and total loser.  


he finds a bench to sit at, and tensely relaxes into it—if you can even do that.  


.  
.  
.  


ugh…what was he supposed to do?  


he pulls his phone out and flips it open, checking the time.  


it’s already been an hour? damn, time flies fast…  


he sighs, nose curling as the heat of the sun starts to beat down on him.  


_an hour and he still doesn’t have what he needs._  


he can already hear kun’s stupid voice saying, _“epic fail!”_ and _“mega fail!”_ and it’s making his ears bleed—so he jumps up and shakes off his frustration to walk—but he can still hear it, can even see it and that stupid emoticon he always used—he starts walking again, pissed off.  


he’s so agitated that, when he’s passing that business man, still hooting and hollering, he ends up screaming _“just quit!”_ so loud that the man startles.  


then he stares at sicheng like he’s crazy before he stops, tosses his suitcase, then walks away.  


the now ex-boss gives sicheng a thumbs up, then turns to sit at a table full of suit ‘nd tie wearing lookalikes.  


huh.  


he didn’t think that would work.  


however, that doesn’t help his problem—he’s still lacking a cat costume, or cat accessories? he’s not sure—but he needs it _now_ or he’s gonna _die_ listening to yuta gush about that damn cat; taking up all his boyfriend’s attention.  


he stomps, kicks _another_ trash can, then begins to storm away—if he didn’t love yuta so much, he thinks he would beat him to a pulp. like orange juice— _extra pulp-y pulp._  


he huffs and keeps walking, blinded by frustration.  


what’s it take to get a guy his cat paraphernalia god damnit!?  


and then sicheng’s eye is caught by _cheetah print, face paint, and big boobs._  


he stops in his tracks, shocked.  


the _adult store!?_  


why didn’t he think of that sooner!?  


he rushes into the store, the bell ringing a little bit, and his eyes immediately stop at the fifth aisle—and he nearly screams in excitement, freezing in his spot happily.  


there’s all _kinds_ of cat things!  


collars, leashes, little clip on ears and tails—there’s even little costumes and—wait, the bottom has a hole in the front—but then there’s paws and, and _more_ tails;  
but they look weird…like buttplugs?  


whatever.  


he starts excitedly walking towards the aisle, eyes trained on this _really_ cute red collar, and barely glances at the other aisles—though he does get distracted by an…. _outfit_ he’s seen before, he can’t remember _where_ or _who_ was wearing it but—oh my god, there’s a _latex mask._  


first reaction would usually be to run—this time, he just looks away from it.  


he’s a _quick_ learner, trust him. (don’t trust him.)  


the ditsy male surveys the things outside of the aisles, visible on floating shelves and metal racks—a range of finger puppet things to itty bitty vibrators to cutesy lubes and  
gags.  


sicheng doesn’t even know what he has left in his wallet, but he knows he’s gonna spend it all on this stuff for yuta—oh my fucking god, is that a dil— _oh my god, was that even made for a human!?_  


he shudders, phantom pain stinging his ass, and tries to tear his eyes away from what he deems to be a _giant, four foot dildo_ ; but ends up sprinting away from the aisle with his gaze glued to the—woah.  


sicheng makes sudden contact with something _hard._  


his eyes widen, and he jumps back.  


less hard, more firm—as in really, really sexy pecs and a pretty face and then a weird leather shirt thing and a nice belt—no sicheng, sicheng look up, _sicheng look up god damnit, look up! you’re a taken man! you’re a_ —it’s too late.  


but whoever this is, is _packing_.  


“hello.”  


sicheng’s head snaps up.  


“o-oh, hey.”  


pecs—he means bulg—uh?  


“I’m dongyoung, I work here; need any help?” broad, nice chest guy—uh, dongyoung was it?—doesn’t even smile when he says this, completely and utterly serious, and sicheng starts panicking a little.  


this guy would totally judge him.  


like, how could he just— _‘blah blah! I need cat ears and a tail so I can make my boyfriend stop thinking about real cats and think about me instead!’_ sounds pretty bratty, don’t you think?  


sicheng feels sweat build on his forehead.  


“I saw you were looking for something, and I’ll help you so long as you listen to this.”  


sicheng watches intently, then wipes his brow.  


“this.” dongyoung points at his chest, sexy, sexy chest—“it’s a harness. it’s new to the store. buy it.”  


sicheng gulps, however beautiful this man was, he didn’t think that “harness” would be of any use. “that’s…not what I need.”  


dongyoung gives a sharp look, “it’s only sixty bucks. it usually costs over a hundred.”  


sicheng shakes his head, “n-nah, I don’t think I have that on me.”  


dongyoung sighs.  


“so what do you need, I can show you to it—was it the pet play section? what do you need from there? I can call up some other staff to help?”  


sicheng suddenly can’t speak two languages.  


“I…need,” he makes a face, korean sounding funky and fucked up, so he forces out some garbled sounds before speaking in his mother tongue. _“just show me to the aisle. I’m not buying it.”_  


dongyoung thins his lips, eyes narrowing, _“fine.”_  


_what a shocker_ —sicheng nearly wets his pants—this guy is hot and multilingual? wow. he’d be the best boyfriend—  


wait, he’s here for yuta—who’s even hotter, muscular and smart.  


…maybe?  


the tall man guides him towards the aisle, fuzzy collars and tails becoming more and more vivid each step—should sicheng ask for help with what to pick?  


dongyoung stops, and he bumps into the man again and—woah, even his back is strong.  


“here it is. I’ll be at the front with that twi—skinny red-haired guy. _make sure to say you refused the harness.”_  


sicheng gulps.  


“o-okay.”  


“okay.”  


“y…yea.”  


“alright then.”  


sicheng watches him walk away until he’d completely disappeared into the front of the store.  


.  
.  
.  


_what the fuck was that and why did it happen._  


he gives it a couple more moments of thought before he shakes off his shock and meanders into the aisle, glancing back for a moment to see where dongyoung went and—oh  
my god is that taeyong?  


_jesus fucking god fucking christ fucking lord—that’s taeyong._  


he _is_ still skinny. maybe he’ll recognize him when he goes up to pay for his stuff—wait a god damn second, wasn’t it johnny who wore that “outfit”? sicheng _knew_ that stupid costume was too slutty for a nun, he should’ve won best costume damnit, fucking rule breaker—ooh! that’s an even prettier collar!  


sicheng skips back a little, excited, and surveys the doorway until he finds a small stack of baskets tucked at the side of the store front—he rushes over to grab it, trying his best to avoid taeyong’s lost gaze as he snatches one up, and rushes back to the aisle just as quickly as he’d left it.  


basket in hand, he gingerly snatches up a little bottle of lube and some condoms—might as well get it while he’s here—and drops them in, then skitters over to the skinny leather collar and stares at it for a while.  


when he decides analyzing from afar isn’t enough, he then picks it up to inspect it further—and since he doesn’t see any loose thread or cracks (and there’s a little white bell and a small bow behind it, legit ringing so cutely he wants to wear it _now_ ) he lays it into the basket, eyes lingering on it for a while before he resumes his search for ears and a tail.  


as if the kink gods were watching, and now blessing him, sicheng immediately spots a _very_ nice set, packed neatly in a plastic box atop a floating shelf. the ears are fluffy and the tail is _even fluffier_ and it comes with these handcuffs and a blindfold and a short and thick vi—maybe he could invest in that harness, it would go great with this—because the set is cute and the tail is on a little switchable clasp, (maybe so the tail can become a little less clip on, a lot more inside you? sicheng doesn’t know) the ears on a headband; and, quite frankly, sicheng just hit the lotto in the least appropriate way.  


he picks the box up with dreamy eyes and sighs as he adds it to the basket—he can practically hear angels singing for him, THANK GOD HE FINALLY FOUND A SOLUTION!  


he prances off to the front with a small smile, feeling like a kid in a candy shop, and stops at the counter with a happy sound.  


“o-oh? winwin?”  


sicheng feels a little embarrassed blush rise to his face, but smiles nonetheless.  


“hey! hey..taeyong…”  


he gives a nod, and feels himself hesitate before raising the basket to the counter, and setting it down.  


awkward, awkward silence ensues their small talk—sicheng avoids looking at taeyong with his entire body, and only looks up when the redhead starts scanning his items.  


“so…you and yuta?”  


“yea…you and ten?”  


“no…me and him. ten’s girlfriend didn’t like me so I was voted out the group, so yea; _him.”_  


he finally points back to dongyoung—and then sicheng smiles for the first time their entire time of interacting, and, “oh,” he starts, staring dead into dongyoung eyes because taeyong is around and he can’t just checkhisbulgeoutinfrontofhisboyfriend.  


“can I get one of those?” he asks, nodding towards the harness. surely they’d use it! maybe even outside the house.  


taeyong gives a tight smile, dongyoung himself smug and—that’s the face taeyong always made when he lost a bet. “sure.”  


he turns back to his new boyfriend, who’s for some reason reaching out for him already, and—  


it’s safe to say sicheng leaves the store traumatized.  


(he ended up emptying his wallet completely, by the way.)

///

the ride back is nice—he’d checked the time as soon as he slid in the seat of the taxi, and figured he’d found his solution in about four hours—which is great, because it usually takes him _six_ —but whatever.  


he’s just really happy.  


he finally found the BULLSHIT he needed to stop yuta from getting his eyes scratched out by a cat.  


yea...this is cool—pretty _bomb_ if you ask him.

///

the first thing sicheng sees when he gets home, is yuta—who looks like he _didn’t_ just dance for a bajillion hours—lounging on the couch.  


he finally has on a shirt—and the house smells like a gazillion tons of old spice—and he’s happily watching his favourite vcr.  


sicheng feels utterly relieved—if you avoid all technicalities and don’t delve into detail (aka if you disregard the fact that yuta is simple enough to forget he wants a cat because sicheng flaunts a little skin) then this was quite the successful mission.  


wanting that cat and her kittens was gonna be a thing of the past—just like everything else he’d somehow avoided.  


the blond prances off into the room to wash up—because if anything happened like he knew it’d happen; he did not want to end up smelling like a dumpster in the middle of sex.  


he takes a quick shower, makes sure he smells like dove rather than god damn old spice, then dresses simply in yuta’s favourite blouse and a pair of shorts—he needs _something_ to clip the tail onto, alright? don’t judge.  


he separates the stuff in the bag, then takes a peek at the mirror to make sure he looks at least a _little_ alluring.  


when he steps back out, holding the bag behind his back, yuta is cozying up to the side of the couch; waiting for him.  


“hey.” he whispers out, finally sounding tired. “where’d you go?”  


the blond gives a tiny smile—and yuta feels his heart swell a little.  


that’s…gay.  


“I got you a gift!” sicheng exclaims, bringing the bag forward—and yuta straightens up, eager and excited. everyone loves gifts, okay?  


“since it’s in a bag like that, I can only assume it’s _not_ a cat—so what is it?” he asks, grinning.  


“not telling.”, the chinese boy hums, smiling, then skips over to the couch—“oh, come on! tell me!” yuta begs, watching sicheng each step he took; tiny shorts seemingly ever tinier, and _wow_ , that shirt looks good on him.  


the blond slides into the couch, smiling, and puts the bag behind him.  


“fine,” he whines, somewhat laughing, “close your eyes. I’ll tell you when you can look.”  


yuta nods, and turns; shutting his eyes.  


sicheng clips the tail on to the best of his ability before rushing to slide the ears on—he’s got to be quick! he ruffles his hair, unbuttons the blouse a little, then goes for it.  


“look, you can look.” he says, tapping at the japanese man’s shoulder gently—and then yuta turns with utmost enthusiasm; his excited grin falling before it turns into this giant, mega-watt smile.  


“oh my god, oh my god—this is so—”  


sicheng smiles, then makes gentle fists and raises them to the sides of his face before— _“nyan!”_  


(he feels like dying.)  


yuta’s cheerful expression blooms with redness, and he starts wheezing a little— _“oh my god you’re so cute.”_  


sicheng feels his face redden—and when yuta starts giggling, both cringing and gushing as he ruffled his own hair, all but chanting phrases in japanese; it reddens even more.  


yuta is _so_ lucky he loves him.  


“do it again.” yuta laughs out, nudging the blond till he sported an affectionate smile too.  


sicheng laughs, then forces himself to make the sound again and—yuta throws his arms around him, happily, “I love you so much chenggie.”  


ah, that’s nice to hear. with how cute yuta’s being—maybe they’ll end up cuddling rather than…you know what.  


(thank god, sicheng’s legs already hurt from walking.)  


“ah, _so cute, so cute, I hate it._ ” yuta complains, though affectionately, sounding both flustered and deathly disgusted. “really?” sicheng drawls, pulling back to take both accessories off—“ _you_ try them on then, you’re the cat lover here.”  


his already rosy face starts to redden even more, suddenly laughing and giggling, and sicheng can’t help but admire how pretty the pink on the apples of yuta’s cheeks is.  


“you know, doing this is popular back at home.” yuta says, and sicheng nods along; watching the japanese man slide the ears onto his head.  


the fabric covered band parts his fluffy auburn hair, his fringe falling heavily before his eyes and—somehow, though sicheng hadn’t looked at himself with them on; yuta looks  
even cuter in those ears.  


actually…  


kind of… _hot._  


the chinese man lets out a little laugh, half forced due to the sudden heat rushing to his head—yuta giggles, still fixing the headband, “it’s actually kind of, uh, _sexy_ back in japan—so this is embarrassing.” he says.  


_yeah…_ ”kind of” sexy his foot; sicheng’s _dick_ is getting hard.  


maybe this is some kind of kink he has or something—well, it definitely is, because his shorts are feeling _a lot smaller_ —but yuta looks super fucking _fuckable_ like this, you can’t blame him.  


sicheng’s light-hearted smile tightens.  


yuta is oblivious for only a little, when he’s asking for the tail and fumbling to find a belt loop to hook it on, but when he looks up; he seems to notice the shift in the atmosphere.  


he also seems to notice that, quite frankly, his chipper chinese boyfriend is full on aroused; and, though he seems unaware, is all but radiating predatory want.  
things have…taken a turn.  


“chenggie..”  


okay, okay—this is okay, yuta’s totally not gonna get riled up because of this, he’s totally not.  


sicheng suddenly moves in for a kiss, leans forward a little too quickly for it to be a peck too—and yuta accepts it, wholeheartedly.  


their lips meet, melding together gently—but then sicheng has to go and make it _hot_ and—tongue is added, teeth clang, lips become bitten red.  


a moment passes, their lips moving wetly, tongues sliding past each other only to touch again—and, man, they haven’t kissed like this in a while—sicheng deepens the kiss even more, if it’s even possible, and pushes yuta until his back meets the cushions they sat on.  


the band slips back from the impact, tousling his hair, but sicheng only continues; arms braced on either side of yuta’s head despite the limited space the sofa had—the japanese man whimpers, a tiny little sound that sends shivers all over sicheng’s body, rips an appreciative grunt right from his throat.  


sooner than later yuta whines, hand finding sicheng’s bicep to grip it; begging for air. he pushes a little, forcing sicheng’s kissing to cease as he turns his head; gasping and panting.  


sicheng only moves on to his jaw, pressing heavy kisses to the strong feature before moving on; leaving kitten licks and lovebites on the heated columns of yuta’s neck.  


he shifts his weight onto one arm, moving the other to rest his hand on the tenting crotch of yuta’s pants—and it earns him a keen that’s as musically genius as classical symphonies.  


he nips at the soft skin, once, twice, then sucks a little bruise, red and scandalous—and lord, how could he ever forget how much yuta loves getting hickies.  


he presses his palm against the outline of yuta’s length and lets his fingers curl around it, tugs gently because he knows the fabric of the pants would leave him trembling—  


yuta’s hand flies down to his wrist and he grabs it, whimpering, his legs instinctively closing; though around his lover’s hips, ankles crossed at the blond’s back.  


_“chenggie, wait.”_  


sicheng pulls away, though reluctantly, and clears his mind just enough to focus on what he has before him.  


he gives yuta a less than innocent once over, finds his heart skipping a beat at the pretty expression yuta wore; blissful and excited.  
it takes a moment to process—sicheng gives himself a second to think, to understand that he’s rock hard and yuta just looks really, _really_ pretty and—he’s hard because his boyfriend is wearing cat ears and the—the tail? the tail…  


yuta doesn’t have it on yet.  


and…sicheng is glad.  


see, it being left idle left an opportunity sicheng would _hate_ to miss.  


because he wants to see yuta writhe, pretty and delicate; a submissive little kitten, just for him—and only him—and the tail, it would help.  


“bedroom.” sicheng says, completely peeling his body from yuta’s and snatching up the accessory simultaneously. his feet hit the ground a little loudly but he stays unfazed, making a beeline for their bedroom.  


he faintly hears yuta following behind him, but his focus is on the tail and the bag it came from, and getting yuta as desperate as he’d been again.  


he recalls the one time he’d used a vibrator on yuta—and it’d be hard to forget the sounds, the looks, things that _literally_ made up his wet dreams to this day.  


“chenggie.” yuta calls, right before he sets his hands on the other’s shoulders—a little impish, a little gentle. “babe?”  


sicheng feels an overwhelming amount of dominance rise in his chest.  


“…sit on the bed.” he orders, kind of quietly, “strip.”  


he shrugs yuta off, grabbing the bag he’d brought home with him and—he digs in it and searches for the stubby toy; searches for what he _knows_ will make yuta tremble.  


when he pulls it out—pink and round and cute—alongside the lube and rubbers; he notices yuta still behind him.  


he doesn’t mean to do it as roughly as he does, but he pushes yuta onto the bed—makes the japanese man stumble and trip up until he drops onto the bed and—his eyes become glossy with utter submissiveness and desperation.  


the auburn haired man gazes at the toy with slight humiliation, bowing his head a little before he pulls his shirt off—and sicheng follows, blouse hitting the floor as he begins to get on the bed.  


he drops the lube near yuta’s hip, tosses it really, and questions whether he should prepare yuta himself or not.  


he settles on letting yuta do it, mind suddenly occupied by the imagery of yuta’s delicate body and the way he could pleasure himself when he was gone—when he was left to his own devices, sicheng nowhere in sight…  


yuta looks at him a little shyly, like his persona has done a complete 360, and maybe his thoughts translate into words, or maybe he says it all aloud; yuta’s cheeks red, lip caught between his teeth—  


sicheng gives a reassuring look, maybe to tell yuta to get it over already— _take off your pants, get ready for me_ —and it works, because they’re both already so riled up from just _kissing._  


he closes in on yuta, stance lazy; even natural—and, quite frankly, if the situation were the other way around, he knows it’d be different—but it doesn’t matter, not right now.  


he cages yuta in again, arms right where they were before, even pushes his face back into the crook of yuta’s neck to pepper it with kisses and darken those marks all over again.  


“you're gonna put that in, right.” he asks, grunts really, and yuta already knows he’s talking about the tail and—“y-yea b-but—” he hiccups out a moan, sicheng is unbuttoning his pants and the way he’s doing it is far too unnecessary, no reason he has to rub and tug like that and—his hips buck, sicheng’s suddenly kissing at his sternum and there’s a hand at his nipple—  


“w-wait, I have to—” a strangled little moan, sicheng runs his tongue over the soft plane of skin, sucks bruises there too, “before w-we—”, “or it’ll h-hurt.”  


sicheng grunts, falling back.  


“yea…”, he slides off the bed, unbuttoning his shorts and walking all at once. “do that.” he mumbles, reaching out to grab the doorknob and grabbing it a little too hard.  


“but do it quickly.”  


he closes the bedroom door.

///

 _“penetrating the darkness of night…the air of freedom breaks through! we are the three sacred shooting stars!”_  


yuta makes a sleepy sound, curling up to sicheng lazily—and, said man lets out a yawn of his own, arm wrapping around his pretty japanese boyfriend even tighter.  


_“sailor star fighter! sailor star maker! sailor star healer!”_  


they made their way to the living room almost immediately after showering, no doubt to cuddle while watching tv, and—to be honest? they’re _very_ worn out.  


their days consisted of ranting and walking, dancing and then getting fucked into the bed respectively—and if that’s not enough to be exhausted from, what exactly is?  


then again, sicheng does like to think they fuck like this all the time—so why _are_ they tired?  


…maybe they’re not as… _wild_ as they were back in college? I mean, yuta danced for hours and sicheng could literally walk the fucking globe if he wanted to—but whatever, doesn’t matter, they still fuck like rabbits—or cats?  


…  


yuta lets out a yawn, and sicheng shifts to hold him again—he hopes this cozy moment lasts for the rest of the day, cuddling yuta is one of his favourite things ever.  


_“sailor starlights…stage on!”_  


“chenggie..?”  


dang it.  


“yea?”  


“no cat?”  


“no cat.”  


“okay..”  


yuta pouts a bit, but doesn't really let it bother him.  


this is nice anyways, being held by his boyfriend and such…  


“yuta.”  


“yea?”  


“I should’ve won that costume party, right?”  


yuta cocks a brow, smiling; “yea.”  


“FUCK YEA I KNEW IT! FUCK YOU SEO, WEREWOLVES OVER SLUTTY NUNS ANYDAY.”

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY CAL MY BABY PUPPY WUPPY ACCEPT THIS DOOKEEEEEEEEEE ASS GIFT ILYSSSSSSM


End file.
